Ubik by Philip K. Dick Read Free Book Online

“I went all the way to Switzerland,” he said presently, “and had Ella roused, to get that information, that advice.”
    “Mr. Runciter is free, Miss Wirt.” His secretary tottered to one side, and a plump woman rolled into the office. Her head, like a basketball, bobbled up and down; her great round body propelled itself toward a chair, and there, at once, she seated herself, narrow legs dangling. She wore an unfashionable spider-silk coat, looking like some amiable bug wound up in a cocoon not spun by itself; she looked encased. However, she smiled. She seemed fully at ease. In her late forties, Runciter decided. Past any period in which she might have had a good figure.
    “Ah, Miss Wirt,” he said. “I can’t give you too much time; maybe you should get to the point. What’s the problem?”
    In a mellow, merry, incongruous voice Miss Wirt said, “We’re having a little trouble with telepaths. We think so but we’re not sure. We maintain a telepath of our own—one we know about and who’s supposed to circulate among our employees. If he comes across any Psis, telepaths or precogs, any kind, he’s supposed to report to—” She eyed Runciter brightly. “To my principal. Late last week he made such a report. We have an evaluation, done by a private firm, on the capacities of the various prudence agencies. Yours is rated foremost.”
    “I know that,” Runciter said; he had seen the evaluation, as a matter of fact. As yet, however, it had brought him little if any greater business. But now this. “How many telepaths,” he said, “did your man pick up? More than one?”
    “Two at least.”
    “Possibly more?”
    “Possibly.” Miss Wirt nodded.
    “Here is how we operate,” Runciter said. “First we measure the psi field objectively, so we can tell what we’re dealing with. That generally takes from one week to ten days, depending on—”
    Miss Wirt interrupted, “My employer wants you to move in your inertials right away, without the time-consuming and expensive formality of making tests.”
    “We wouldn’t know how many inertials to bring in. Or what kind. Or where to station them. Defusing a psi operation has to be done on a systematic basis; we can’t wave a magic wand or spray toxic fumes into corners. We have to balance Hollis’ people individual by individual, an anti-talent for every talent. If Hollis has gotten into your operation he’s done it the same way: Psi by Psi. One gets into the personnel department, hires another; that person sets up a department or takes charge of a department and requisitions a couple more…sometimes it takes them months. We can’t undo in twenty-four hours what they’ve constructed over a long period of time. Big-time Psi activity is like a mosaic; they can’t afford to be impatient, and neither can we.”
    “My employer,” Miss Wirt said cheerfully, “is impatient.”
    “I’ll talk to him.” Runciter reached for the vidphone. “Who is he and what’s his number?”
    “You’ll deal through me.”
    “Maybe I won’t deal at all. Why won’t you tell me who you represent?” He pressed a covert button mounted under the rim of his desk; it would bring his resident telepath, Nina Freede, into the next office, where she could monitor Miss Wirt’s thought processes. I can’t work with these people, he said to himself, if I don’t know who they are. For all I know, Ray Hollis is trying to hire me.
    “You’re hidebound,” Miss Wirt said. “All we’re asking for is speed. And we’re only asking for that because we have to have it. I call tell you this much: Our operation which they’ve infested isn’t on Earth. From the standpoint of potential yield, as well as from an investment standpoint, it’s our primary project. My principal has put all his negotiable assets into it. Nobody is supposed to know about it. The greatest shock to us, in finding telepaths on the site—”
    “Excuse me,” Runciter said; he rose, walked to the office